In Trouble Again
by football.crazy
Summary: There are some people who go looking for trouble, and some people that trouble seems to go looking for. Alex Rider is one of these people, as is Eleanora Edwards. This is Eleanora's story, about trouble, adventure, love and most importantally danger.
1. One Step to Far

"Eleanora? Are you even listening to me?" My ancient history teacher barked.

"Uh yeah. Of course." I replied not very convincingly I know, but when your life is as complicated as mine, there are more important things then staying awake in history class.

"Ok well then, I'm sure you will be able to tell the class what was the terrible historical event which occurred in the year AD 79."

I couldn't even remember what the letters AD stood for.. let alone what happened in that year. It's not that I'm a terrible student or anything, more like bad stuff just seems to follow me around. Everywhere I go. I don't know what it is about me which attracts trouble, I just know that it's always around. Especially, at the moment. The reason I'm not concentrating in history class is because I'm worried about my future. Worried about how I'm going to end up, if trouble continues to follow me around, especially after the latest little incident.

"Was it when you where born then, Ms?"

I say, putting on as masquerade of confidence and casualness, the class erupts into un-controllable fits of laughter. I don't join in; my life's not a joke any more it's gone way past the point of being funny.

The expression on Ms Hendersons face spells it out – trouble. The knock on the door spells double trouble. It's the student moniter, and he's looking for someone. Before the door is even opened I know why he is here. He is here to fetch me. He is here to take me to the head teacher's office for what I am almost certain will be the last time.

'Eleanora, it is just not acceptable. This is the sixth time you've been in here this term. It cannot go on. First you assault a fellow student with a chair. Then you set of the fire alarm not once but three times in one day, and then you are caught with alcohol on campus and now this. I'll have you know that I will be calling home about this, and that will only be the beginning. It is possible that I will even have to exclude you."

I shrugged my shoulders at the head teacher.

"I wouldn't bother calling if I where you. No-one will pick it up."

Mrs Greyton sighed and nervously pulled on the ends of her greying hair.

"Eleanora, I must ask is everything at home quite all right?"

She asks me, I see a look in her face that I've never seen before – and trust me I have see quite a lot of her this term. It's the look of concern. For the first time in my life I wonder about Mrs Greyton, and think perhaps that she is not just a head teacher, but also a mother. I wonder if her kid ( or kids!) ever got suspended or even kicked out of school?

Who is she kidding? Of course my life at home is not all right! My Mum died two years ago, and now I have a depressed alcoholic father, and a psycho path of an older brother who's in prison and not due for realese for another three years. But I can't tell that to a teacher – I'll be taken into care, and that would just break my dad's heart. Even though he has turned into a complete outcast of society

"Yeah sure everythings great." I say, trying to sound like it's the truth and everything is.

"Eleanora, I know that life might seem unfair sometimes and that maybe you have had an unfair share of trouble and tragedy in yours, but it is my responsibility to the school to make sure it's a safe learning environment. I have no choice but to exclude you. You have to learn that there is a line in life, and that if you cross that line there are serious consequences…"

I can't do it anymore. I can't just sit in that office and listen to Mrs Greyton telling me how much I've messed up my life, and where I'm going to end up if I don't come clean and sort it out. So I do what my brother – Charmont should have done on that fateful day, almost a year ago. I get up, and sprint out the door, run through the empty corridors, and suddenly I'm outside and away.


	2. I'm Alex, Alex Rider

I've always been a fast runner, I'm not really sure why or how I mean it's not like I'm that much of a fit person, I mean yeah I play football in the park with my friends most days of the week. But it's not like I do athletics training or anything like that.

I guess that's mainly because after Mum died Dad had a mental break down and just stopped working, it's now approaching the third anniversary of the day she died and he is still messed up, and we're still living off the council grant. There's not enough money to even buy me a new pair of football boots, let alone pay for me to have training.

I run for what seems like miles and miles and miles, for some reason I don't get puffed like I usually do after the first mile or so. I have reached that point where you can just keep on running, and running for forever, well practically. I know that running away from my troubles isn't going to make them go away, but what else could I do?

I couldn't go back to school, definitely considering I'd just been expelled, I can't go to my best friend Seraphine's house (I don't exactly think Sera's prissy stuck-up parents would be thrilled to find out that their precious daughters best friend – who they already think is a bad influence on their little darling, and hey who can blame them? - Has just gotten herself kicked out of school. I absolutely cannot go home, physically yes I could it's not that far from school really, just a couple of streets, but emotionally no way.

On my father's more sober days he always tells me….

"Eleanora…… I know I'm a bad excuse for a Father and I'm sorry…. But you listen here, you do well in school, you graduate…. You go out there and do what you want to do…. Just promise me you won't end up like me. It would just break my heart if you ever turned into anything like your brother, Promise me you will be the strong one in this family?"

I don't think I'm being very strong right now. As I run down the desolate and deserted streets, getting wetter and wetter and running more wildly, the only thing I hear in my head is a terrible pouring, a terrible chant of the word's "Promise me you'll be the strong on in this family…?"

The rain falls from the sky, like it always does. Tourist's always complain that it rains too much in England, actually most people who live here do it too. I don't see why everyone hates the rain so much, I actually rather like it. It make's you feel connected to the world just to know that these raindrops have fallen in other countries (at least I think they have, I was half listening that day in Geography when we did the water cycle). I like to see the rain fall down, I like the streets better when it's wet, everything seems more… I don't know really.. more mysterious, more magical? 

Eventually the rain gets too heavy (it is more like hail then anything, I feel sharp pains hit my exposed flesh as I run through the city. I find myself wishing that I had collected my stuff from school, especially my coat, with it's warm fleecy lining, except I guess there wasn't time. I just had to get away from that god-awful place with my stupid head teacher telling me how stupid I was and how much I'd mucked up my life. I run along the lonely highway, its generally very busy at rush hour, however just at the moment only a few lone cars travel along it, heading out of this city. I consider hitch hiking, however I'm too scared to after all those stories which have been going around about female hitchhikers being assaulted, raped and killed by people in white vans. Now that I think about it, there's not really that many white vans around, but maybe the white van part is just an urban ledged… maybe the kind of people who do things like that actually drive BMW's that are silver in colour.

The hail storm becomes so ferocious, that I'm forced to dive into a under-pass. It smell's faintly of urine, but I don't really have much choice and after confirming there aren't any druggies or hoons hanging around I duck inside.

"Has the storm finished yet?" Asked a voice, I jumped high up in the air; well as high up in the air as you can when standing inside an under-pass. I don't know how I didn't notice that there was in fact another human being sheltering inside the under-pass, I suppose it must have been the light or something.

I turned around, ready to defend myself against some creepy drugged up lunatic and was surprised to find that the owner of the voice was a boy who looked about my age. A rather good looking boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes which half the look of someone who had seen some things which where way beyond their years.

"No, no it's still raining quite a lot, hailing in fact."

The boy acknowledged my response with a simple nod.

"So what are you doing in this under-pass on such a lovely day?" I asked, sarcastically. I thought I wouldn't be in the mood to see, let alone talk to another person in say… a couple of years. But there was something enticing about this strange blond haired boy. Something that told me, that like myself he too had been through a lot.

"Long story…." He said, smiling at me. There was something about his smile, his eyes which sent shivers down my spine. I wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing, but the shivers where more excited then scared.

"Does it involve a dead mother, a psychopath brother who's in prison, an alcoholic father, getting expelled from school and a pretty awesome comeback about the age of a school teacher?"

"No it's much darker then that."

He said, looking as if he wanted to tell me everything about himself, but there was something almost… holding him back in a way. I don't know what it was about this boy, but he sure had me in a confused and bamboozled state.

"Ok, I'm Eleanora by the way, Eleanora Greenhayle…"

"And I'm Alex, Alex Rider."


	3. The Dark Figure

"So what are you doing here?" I asked the mysterious boy in front of me. He suddenly turns around, and freezes, as if sensing something, something I can't feel. It's almost as if he has a sixth sense. He remains frozen for a second, then without saying a word gestures for me to get out by waving his tanned arm up and down in the air a couple of times.

I shake my head, his strange behaviour has intrigued me, I want to find out what his going on here. He gives me a glare and hesitates for a second, and then he gesture for me to run, so that's what I do, for the second time that day I run. What we are running from I'm not sure.

"What's going on?" I ask the boy beside me, dropping back from my usual fast pace to stay back with him.

"There's… someone following…someone following me I'd stay away, far away if I was you.." He puffs, his breath in short rasps.

I laugh; surely he is just being paranoid. I look at him, and see in his eyes the look of true fear. I stop laughing immediately. I get the feeling that this is more then just downright paranoia, something deep inside me tells me that this boy has a real reason to be running away, another part of me senses that there is someone watching us.

"I think… there's… someone watching us.." I say, although I am pretty fit and a fast runner, after having run about a mile at top speed, I am tiring and slightly short of breath. Alex Rider lets back a slightly amused laugh, but it has a scared undertone to it. I get the feeling that this boy is no stranger to fear and danger, and has been followed before.

"They're more then watching us…" He says, his voice, a daunting chill, which makes my spine tingle in fear. For some reason this feeling makes me more determined to figure out what is going on, more determined to follow through and stay with this boy until he escapes his pursuers. It might sound crazy but the feeling fear makes me more attracted to something, rather then less. I'm not sure if this is normal, or a good thing, but it just appears to be the way that I work.

"What going on?" I repeat my unanswered question a second time. Alex Rider appears to have either not have heard (and I guess that isn't so unbelievable - considering that it is still bucketing down and the wind speed and sound is up and roaring!) or maybe he heard perfectly but simply chose to leave the question un-answered as when your being chased by goodness-only-knows what there isn't really time to explain about anything.

We run on through a large park, usually a place of leisure and enjoyment, full of dog walkers and little kids learning to ride their bikes when the weather is fine, and family's wrapped up in their yellow raincoat and multi-coloured wellington boots when it is not so fine. There is no-one at the park today and as if anticipating that something dangerous is happening the sun disappears behind the dark looming storm clouds, casting a dark shadow over the world. Masking the chase in a cloak of darkness.

We run on through the darkening park, almost blindly. I am tiring now, my heart rate us up really high, and my breaths are short and raggedy. Judging from the expression on Alex's face he feels the same. Just as I am beginning to question if Alex is all quite all there and if there are actually people following us, I fall tripping over a root of a tree. It's almost like in those fairy tales, where the trees are alive and intent on tripping up heroes and heroines as they escape from the enemy. But this isn't a fairy tale, there is no good and evil, just difference of opinion. This isn't a fairy tale, so it doesn't have to end like one. And judging from the way that trouble and me go together like toast and strawberry jam, it probably won't.

The world seems to go in slow motion, seems to slow down, to almost pause for a moment in time as I fall over. Alex, turns around and he gasps, looking straight past me, He pulls me up by the hand and tries to make me keep running. But I can't go on, I crumple to the ground, the fight gone out of me. Alex pauses for a second

"You must keep running…. if they catch you they will kill you, without hesitation." He tells me, his eyes full of concern and worry. However he realises that continuing on will be impossible in my state.

"Get yourself over to the bush, and call them police and ask for MI6, tell them that Scorpia are after Alex Rider, do not speak of this to anyone. You don't want to get involved." He says, and runs on in desperation, he looks back only once and I see the tears clear on his face. I try to call towards the bushes, it's only a couple of meters away but it may as well be a hundred miles. I decide to rest for a minute before continuing further. The last thing I see is a dark figure. The last thing I feel is a sharp pain in my leg. And then the world goes black.


	4. A Boy Named Alex

** NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR!!**

**Hi everyone!**

**Sorry I haven't updated for AGES..**

**I've been really busy with school etc and haven't really had the time, I also wasn't sure where I wanted the story to go but you should get another chapter by the end of this week, maybe more then one if the creative urge hits me!! Anyway thanks to all my readers, ESPEICALLY the ones who review me. My story would be nothing without you! So please keep reading and reviewing and yeah I hope you like the new chapter!!!**

I woke up, and with one eye open surveyed my surrounds, from the very moment I had regained the first sense of conciseness I realized that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. I opened my eyes and was shocked to find that it made no difference, the place which I was in (wherever that may be) was completely and utterly pitch black, I opened my eyes several more times to confirm that this was actually what was going on and it was simply not just a figment of my sometimes over creative imagination. However doing this just confirmed the situation. Something was wrong. I tried to stand up, however I felt a sharp pain in my wrists and my ankles.

What on earth had happened? It was almost as if, as impossible and freaky as it might sound I had been transported to a different world, so different was the situation I found my self in different to the norm.

I don't think many people wake up and find themselves in a dark room chained to the floor with absolutely no memory of how this came to pass and how they came to be in such a situation. I closed my eyes once more, trying to get to sleep, after all what other choice did I have? However as one can probably imagine sleep did not come easily to me, in fact it did not come at all. I have no idea how much time I spent lieing in the absolute pitch blackness trying desperately with all my might to try and remember how I had got here.

It could have been only a few minutes, it could have been a couple of days. I have to admit that I thought perhaps I was dead, never to live or laugh or love or talk or shout or scream or run around or do anything ever again, lost to the world as my Mum was and that was when the door opened.

The light was so bright, if I had been the religious sort I probably would have thought it was God or something like that, coming to welcome me inside the gates of heaven, however when you have grown up in the manner which I have, there isn't any room for a greater being. It took a couple of minutes for my eyes to clear, and that's when I noticed the boy.

He was about my age and lying just a few feet away, also chained to the cold sterile greyness of the floor of the prison (I assumed it was a prion after all where else do they chain you to the floor?). He looked familiar, however I just could not place his face, or remember meeting him. By now I realized that I had probably been put under some drug or something to keep me un-conscious and my head felt like there was something or someone hitting me respectively with a sharp and nastily shaped object.

It was then that the man who had opened to door spoke.

"Alex Rider we meet again"

And that was then the whole thing, the crazy and weird events of how I came to be here came flooding back to me. That one name reminded me of everything which had happened in the last twenty four hours. I say everything broadly. I could not of course remember the part in between passing out and ending up in this place – where-ever it was but I knew enough to start screaming at the boy named Alex Rider.


	5. Dead Men and Darkness

**Authors Note**

**Just wanted to say sorry if some of the stuff in this part of the story is incorrect – I can't seem to find my Alex Rider books to confirm some important details! Also sorry that not very much happened in this chapter – it is build up for the next one where I can assure you, readers a LOT will be happning!! Anyways yeah please keep reviewing because that way I know that my story can't be **_**that**_** bad! I've decided not to write the put the next chaper up untill I have at least five new reviews! So yeah if you want to find out what happens next please just click the review button! Thanks for reading and all of your suport!**

The man at the door shoot me a glare, so icy that it made me forget all that I had to say to Alex and the way he had treated me. I realized that throwing a tantrum in front of the person who had kidnapped us was probably not the best way to get out of this situation.

"Some-one will be over to pick you up in around an hour, two hours so don't go trying any funny business." He said dryly, in a voice that just sounded like it had a slight foreign twinge, all the words where over pronounced and a little, I'm not sure where this man was from but it definitely was not from the West End!

Alex face turned white, and screwed up, he stared at the man at the door "I thought you where dead!"

Then the man calmly and collectively closed the door.

I waited until I could not here the steps of our captives anymore and then I exploded.

"Alex Rider! Are you going to explain to me who the hell you are and what the hell the creeps who locked us up in here and chained us to the floor want? And what are you doing working for MI6 isn't that like part of the Military because you don't look eighteen to me! And isn't SCORPIA that criminal organization, so why on earth would they want to kill you? And why was that freaky man supposed to be dead?." I shouted, stopping abruptly when I realized that Alex Rider wasn't even listening to me, I felt my blood pressure go up, but then I realized that me being angry at him wasn't going to help either of us. Without bothering to apologise, as it was not really the Eleanora Edwards style I asked him…

"Ok so what's the plan to get us out of here?"

It turned out there wasn't one, or at least not yet, it was still completely pitch black you must remember so we had no way of seeing around the room or even seeing our handcuffs to figure out how we could get them off. Alex – who I learnt was very effect like this had swept the room with his eyes when that strange man had opened the door. I sort of got the feeling by now, that Alex was something more then your average school boy, but it turned out that when it came down to escaping from our captives he was just as cluless as I was. So we just lay there for a couple of minutes, wondering if today would be the day that we would die.

Then Alex started to speak.

«Look, I'm really sorry that I got you into this… And I will never forgive myself if you where to not come out of this alive.»

I didn't say anything for a minute, expecting more, and then I did speak.

«The last couple of hours have been the most exciting of my life, I don't care if I do die because at least I would have died having an adventure, and die knowing you.» The words just slipped out of my mouth. I relized that know probbaly wasn't the best time for flirting, in fact it was one of the worst possible moments but there was just something about this boy which made my insides feel like they where turning inside-out. Then Alex's hand reached out for mine In the dark, just as mine sought his and we lay there in the dark, chained to the floor our fingers intewined.

«So,» I said more softly this time «Are you going to tell me about yourself why we are here or what?» Alex took a deep breath in and then he told me an highly suprizing and story whichc if anyone but him had told me about the very same story I would have told them they where barking and recommeded that they went and saw some people weasrng white coats. But there was something about the tone in Alex's voice which told me that every single word of his impossible sounding story was one hundred percent true. He told me about his parents, and his uncle Ian and Jack Starbright – the lady who looked after hin and was his guadian. He told me about MI6 and Alan Blunt and Ms Jones and as he told me about the cruel and dispicible way which he had been used as a spy and a weapon and the threats which MI6 had cruely threated him with I felt a twinge of guilt. He told me about the criminals he had deafeated over the last year and then about Yasin Gorgovovit. The man he had thought was dead.

«And then you know I watched him die on that areoplane, and he told me about how my father had been part of SCORPIA and stuff (even though I actually know now that he was double crossing them under orfers by MI6) and I felt like I sort of knew Yasin and as if he was someone I could trust, which sounds foolish because I know he is a contract killer and all and then he comes back from the dead and kidnaps me?» Alex fell silent, sensing that someone was coming.

«Look I just want to say sonething before its too late» He said quickly. «I really like you Eleanora» He said, I wanted to respond to say that I felt the same way, however just as he finished saying those five words the door burst open to reveal the man which Alex Rider claimed had died less then six months ago.


	6. Two Brothers

"What the hell? Didn't you die on Air Force One?" Alex shouted as soon as we where dragged by two men, dressed entirely in black, with the same cool and serious expression on their faces which just seemed to scream 'Contract Killer'.

The man sitting behind the fancy desk, in the ornately decorated room laughed.

"I am not who you think I am, Alex Rider." I looked from one to the other in confusion, of course I had never seen Yassin Gorgorovitch, but still the man who stood before us looked and sounded exactly like the man which Alex had been describing only minutes before we where escorted to this room. Then the man, whoever he was let out a small dry laugh. It was a terrible sound, perhaps one of the most terrible sounds that I have had the misfortune to hear in my life.

"I see, Yassin never told you about me did he? How very typical of him!" I gave Alex an sideways glance, was this man crazy?

"No he didn't…." Alex said slowly.

"My name is Sasha Gorgorovitch. Yassin is my brother. I grew up all my life, in his shadow. Yassin was always the favourite you see, and then one day he just… disappeared. It broke my mother and fathers heart, so I too ran away. They never really cared for me at all, because I wasn't Yassin. I was second born, second best," The man paused for a second to spit on the floor. "But I showed them, I obtained a false birth certificate, something that is not very hard to do in Russia yes? And joined the Russian army, I then become contract killer, like my brother. Though I was always more careful then him. And now Alex Rider I find you because a little bird told me that you know my brother, yes?"

"I don't know your brother anymore." Alex said, trying very hard to hide the build up emotion which he had felt in Yassin's final minutes. It was a feeling he could never forget I realized., I felt a strong urge to reach out towards Alex, to hold him in my arms and telling him it was all going to be OK. However I resisted, decided that it probably wasn't the best time for such an act.

I could almost see the blood rushing to Sasha Gorgorovitch's head as he stood up and grabbed Alex by the shoulders. He then proceeded to shake them violently

"Ok Mr Rider, we can either do this the nice way or the nasty way ok?" He gestured to the two men dressed entirely in black, whom had frogmarched us from the room where we had been held captive. I saw the glint of something silver being pulled from underneath one of the men's belt. I gasped. There was no doubt in what this object was, and even less what it was going to be planned to be used for.

I froze, unable to move with fear. One of the men tied my hand-cuffs and leg-cuffs to the chair and the other drew the knife, holding it just inches from my neck. I concentrated with all my might on the knife, as if hoping that somehow it would just go away. But I knew that staring at the knife would not help. Alex tried to get up, with the obvious intention of saving me however he sat back down abruptly when Sasha told him calmly.

"If you move again we will slit your girlfriends throat." Alex gasped, and sat back in the chair, ridged.

Was this really how my life was going to end?


	7. Seeing Red

A look of panic briefly swept across Alex's face. Sascha Gorgorovitch let out his evil, serial killer type laugh. I didn't dare move a muscle, too scared of what might happened to Alex, to me under the control of these psychopaths. I simply stared into Alex's eyes, losing myself in them. They where not like other peoples eyes, when he was younger he might have had a cheeky glint in his eye like I usually did when I didn't have a knife pressing into the front of my neck, but any sign of that was now gone. He's eyes where empty, it was almost as if he where a corpse.

"Alex Rider!" Sascha just about screamed at full pitch, I regongnized the tone of voice. It was the tone which teachers use when they are particularly impatient when you fail to explain why you punched some one in the face, about why you are so different and much more difficult from all the other kids. It was the tone of voice my Mum used to use, before she died, when she caught me watching TV at two in the morning because of my insomnia. It also seemed to be the tone of voice that a contract killer who pretty much wanted to kill his older brother for getting more attention when they where kids and the one person who knows where his brother is won't tell him where.

"Are you going to tell me where my brother is or am I going to have to kill your little girlfriend here in front of you… it would be such a shame." He whispered just loud enough for me to hear. He reached over towards me and stroked me on the cheek.

"What a pretty one she is too."

That was it. That was the moment when I completely lost it. No-one; not even a contract killer calls Eleanora Edwards "pretty". It was one of those moment, where all the anger at my Mum for dieing when she did, my brother for getting arrested and leaving ME to look after my completely mental father who couldn't get out of bed most days and was wasting away his lives earnings on vodka and rum, went to my head. It was moments such as these ones where people had been hospilized, letters had been written home, visits to the police office had been made. It was also this anger which saved my life. And Alex Rider's of course.

I lept up, startling the two guards, Sascha and Alex.

"He's DEAD!" I screamed at top volume.

The guards tried to grab a hold of me, make me sit down in the chair again. But I was in complete psycho mode and none of their efforts did much good. They had obviously never seen a teenage girl with a troubled past and even more troubled futures (judging by the way things where going!) chuck a giant wobbly.

"Your brother is Fcking DEAD!!!!! D-E-A-D!!!!!!!" I screamed as loud as I possibly could, louder then I had ever screamed before, always struggling against the two burly guards.


End file.
